


We Keep This Love (In a Photograph)

by RaeValentine



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cats, Dorks in Love, Drinking, Kissing, Long-Haired Atem, Love Confessions, M/M, Morning Cuddles, Multi, Polyamory Negotiations, Sharing a Bed, Skiing, Snow Angels, Songfic, Songwriting, Vacation, flareshipping, sappy gay pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2019-03-07 09:30:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13431861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaeValentine/pseuds/RaeValentine
Summary: Ten years is a long time to foster a crush on not one, but two of the best men Seto Kaiba has ever known. Coming to terms with it had been no easy task. Rejection was not in his vocabulary, so he did the only thing he could think of: bury it as deep as he could in the darkest corners of his heart and move on with his life.He recognized a second chance when he saw it; dipped in starlight, submersed in snow, and edged in golden laughter.[Or, the one time Seto Kaiba falls hard in love, rekindling an old flame that's been lying dormant for nearly a decade.]





	We Keep This Love (In a Photograph)

**Author's Note:**

> This is based (loosely) on the video for [Perfect](https://youtu.be/2Vv-BfVoq4g) by Ed Sheeran. I cut out the dance scenes because it was getting kind of long, and I was getting tired of watching the video to use as reference lmao.
> 
> This was written for my dear friend as a Christmas gift. Sorry it's so late, Sunshine. I hope you like it as much as I liked writing it for you. I hope everyone else enjoys it as well. <3

Early morning sunlight crawls over the mountainside, staining the snow-covered hills in pastoral shades of pink and blue. Miles of trees speed past, blurring into green and white streaks. 

Alone in his train car, Seto Kaiba has eyes for no one but the wrinkled photograph in his hands. Three young men - the epitome of teenage grace - stare back at him. One moment, captured in time and solidified in his memory forever.

The birthday cap still looked ridiculous ten years later, perched on his head at such a haphazard angle, it's a wonder Yugi hadn't managed to knock it from his head in the middle of kissing him. He still remembers squeezing Atem's hand, a warm lifeline in a sea of rowdy bodies; sliding his fingers in the vacant spaces and feeling more at home than ever before.

It's still freezing, his breath coloring the air on a sigh as he folds the picture in half for what must be the hundredth time. _Plenty of time to reminisce later_ , he thinks, lips curling slightly upwards at the thought of seeing his high school crush again. It's gone before anyone can see, left behind among the blurred trees and snowy hills.

A voice comes over the intercom, a two minute warning. Seto gathers his bag and stands, hefting it over a shoulder. It's time to face the unrequited demons of his past.

Ten years is a long time to fan the flames of a love that was never meant to be.

The first breath of air to fill his lungs after the long train ride - frost-tipped claws and fresh needles of winter - carries with it a sense of nostalgia. It reminds him of long, miserable days and equally atrocious nights, stuck in his step-fathers' shadow while the world turned on without him in it.

_Just another reason you're bothering to do this. He's not around to rule your life anymore._

Ten years is a long time to shoulder the burden of guilt.

The bitter thought is short-lived, cast off to live in the pits of doubt, swirling with clumsy fingers around his heart. He approaches a long pane of glass, looking into the cozy cafe beyond. 

They're not hard to spot; the hair is always a dead giveaway, but Seto did not expect to see so much of it coating Atem's sweater-clad shoulders. It falls in gentle copper coils down to the crook of his elbows, sleeves pushed back - the better to grip a mug of cocoa a barista hands him.

Everything about him screams of sunlight and warmth; even his smile makes the room seem brighter. Atem settles into the cushion beside his partner, who Seto is surprised to see has grown in his absence. Soft curves have filled out into sleek angles, sharp eyes fixed on a single point when he speaks.

Yugi sweeps the gilded fringe from his eyes as he talks, animated and full of life. He is nothing like the shy, soft-spoken nerd Seto left behind, but a bright spark of mischief rolling in with the tide. Dark light dances behind his eyes, soft and glittering with mirth. It plucks at his heartstrings, sad and fleeting, and propels him forward into the cafe, quickly placing his order before his nerve fails him.

Where is the confidant businessman feared by many and loved by none? Did Seto leave him behind at the last train station, arms folded, bitter scowl lining his features, on display for the world to see?

Mokuba was right, he really _did_ need this trip.

Atem is the first to spot him, mug halfway to his lips. A brilliant flash of teeth, a subtle glimmer of gold dangling from both ears; Seto wishes he could drown himself in such a selfless, easy gesture.

"Kaiba!" The carefree call of his name sets an ember kindling in his gut, flickering at the rich timbre of Atem's voice. 

Yugi stops mid-sentence, head snapping to attention. A pair of bright eyes stare him down - dark as dusk and just as lovely - followed closely by a swift spread of lips. 

"Well, I'll be damned! You showed up after all."

"It was either this, or sign off on more Christmas albums." Seto shrugs, a quick bird-like dip of his shoulders. Dropping his backpack at his feet, he takes the chair across from them, swiping the snow from his crown and letting warmth seep into his hands again.

Yugi reaches over, boldly ruffling the last of the frost coating the tips of his hair. Seto's ears bloom in response, a full flush of pink he prays neither of them can see.

Atem's soft laughter finds its way into the minute cracks of his heart, filling him up and drowning out the background noise; it's such a wholesome sound, a reminder of better times.

Seto's lips twitch, a phantom flicker of emotion that doesn't linger for more than a wisp of breath.

It's been ten years, but it already feels like he's _home._

The next ten minutes are spent catching up on each other's lives, where they are in the world, and what they made of themselves. Atem and Yugi own a small bookstore together not far from where they all grew up. 

"Not many customers come by," Yugi says, a wistful note in his voice as his hand strays to Atem's knee and lingers there. "But it's home, you know?"

Seto nods, hands clenched firmly around his cup for lack of anything else to do. Lets the residual heat seep into his palms until it's nearly painful, a stark reminder of what could have been.

"We heard your music empire is doing well." Atem's lips curve into an easy cupid's bow as he sets his nearly empty mug on the table between them. His arm finds its way onto the back of the couch, fingers carding through silky plum curls. Yugi leans back into the tender touch, eyes half-lidded and thoroughly content. 

"You could say that." 

Seto would sooner set his body aflame than admit to ever having such cravings for himself.

Thankfully, the bell above the cafe door jingles, and Yugi's eyes grow wide in surprise.

"Hold that thought, Kaiba." He shoots up from the couch and into another man's arms. "Jou! Hey, you guys made it!"

Jounouchi Katsuya and half their old high school gang fill the cafe with their merriment. Seto chokes on his own poisonous thoughts, lets them fester in silence awhile. It would do him no good and earn him little favor with either man should a shouting match begin this soon. He lets out a breath, calms his face into the impenetrable mask known as solitude, and exchanges brief greetings with long lost friends.

Atem rises to his feet, gathering their things. He can hear Anzu Mazaki and Hiroto Honda fawn over Yugi's carefree presence, but Seto ignores it all. Grunts in acknowledgement to the not unkind pat to his back from Jounouchi and follows the lot of them from the cafe, bag in hand.

"Good to see ya again, moneybags!"

Jou's accent twangs unpleasantly in his ears, and Seto shoves a black knitted cap onto his head in lieu of a response.

They rent a van down the road and pile their bags in the trunk. Drawing lots to see who would spend the next two hours driving through narrow, winding back roads was not in Seto's schedule, but it was just his luck to end up behind the wheel anyway.

It could be worse, he supposed. Riding with Atem in the passenger seat was a restful experience compared to what he could have endured in the back. Jou roped Honda and Mazaki into a singalong, but Seto's growling protest died in his throat when Yugi reached over the back of his seat to turn up the volume.

Dark winter skies blinking back at him, a fleeting summer grin, and Yugi's back in his seat, smushed beside Jou and having the time of his life. Seto takes a breath, eyes straying to the rearview mirror in an unabashed moment of _want_. Mazaki has her arms pillowed on the back of Jou's headrest, Honda with arms folded and leaning against the opposite window, a crooked grin lining his features. Atem's sunset gaze follows, lips curling fondly at the corners.

Seto grips the wheel tightly, steadying the yearning in his heart with off-key ballads sung by the young and inexperienced. In other circumstances, he would shut the radio off and stew in silence; but for them, he would endure far worse, so he keeps his own council and his eyes on the snow-covered road.

***

 

Their first stop lies high in the mountains, a lodge overlooking the frost-tipped summit and dotted with the occasional tourist. They'd spent the last half hour cementing the trip in stone and dividing their share of funds between them. It was enough for a weekend getaway and not much more.

After dropping their luggage off in their respective cabins - Seto was surprised to learn that included a six month old cat - they shouldered pairs of skis and began the short trek to the gondola that would take them to the top.

Seto preferred the solitary window seat, contenting himself with the breathtaking view while chords and lyrics danced around the corners of his mind. Tapping out a slow and measured rhythm on his knee, he steals a subtle glance toward Atem, whose fingers deftly weave their way through rust-darkened curls, an elastic band gripped between his teeth. 

Muted conversation winds down to a steady hum; Yugi's eyes find his across the tiny space, gilded fringe dusted in a thin veneer of white powder. Seto banishes the urge to comb his fingers through the sea of strands and returns to planning out the melody of his new song.

Once they hit the slopes, they stop long enough to don their gear; tough helmets over cloth caps, thick gloves to cover chilled fingers, boots fastened securely to pairs of skis. Seto is no stranger to physical sports, and Yugi seems to have the hang of it, but Atem is not so lucky. He falls twice before Seto takes pity on him, helping him stand and showing him the basics on how to maneuver correctly with twin planks of heavy wood strapped to their feet.

Jounouchi and Honda are too busy showing off, doing petty tricks for a group of local girls watching from several feet away. Yugi and Mazaki are sliding further down the slope in slow, languid rotations, somehow managing to keep up a conversation despite the chill.

Once Atem was back upright and able to slide ten consecutive feet without planting his ass in the hard-packed snow, Seto decided to forge ahead and let him spread his newfound frost-tipped wings. They didn't carry him far, but Seto was there to pick him back up again.

"Thank you," Atem demures, readjusting his grip and propelling himself forward for another try.

"Go slowly until you get the hang of it."

Seto nearly regrets giving him the advice. Five minutes later, he's whizzing past, grinning and thoroughly drunk on the thrill of speed. It's a miracle he doesn't crash into Yugi, who laughs and speeds up, trying desperately to catch up with his lover. Mazaki is nearly bursting with laughter as Seto leisurely passes her by.

They make their way down the mountain in good time, late afternoon watery sunshine marking their path back to the gondolas.

"Well, boys," Mazaki props her skis in a foot of snow, brushing some stray flakes from her coat. "How about one more go down the mountain?"

Seto is largely indifferent, but Yugi makes up his mind for him.

"It'll be dark soon, but we have flares. Why not?" An elbow digs gently into his side before it's gone, matching narrowed blue eyes to wild, umbral skies. "You up for another go, Kaiba?"

His tone suggests a _different_ kind of challenge; a raised eyebrow, lips twitching upwards, a flash of teeth under the dark outline of his scarf. It paints an image Seto immediately buries beneath the hardened frost at his feet, but that doesn't stop the heated flush from creeping up his neck like a beacon. 

"Don't chicken out before the fun starts, sheesh!"

Seto's glare fails to penetrate Jounouchi's armor; it only seems to rile him up further, but that problem is solved quickly as the next ski lift passes. It's big enough for three, and Mazaki shoves both Jounouchi and Honda into the seats before an argument can strike.

"I suppose we'll have to share the next one." Atem huffs, glancing up at him from beneath glossy, powder-kissed lashes.

Seto voices no objections to this new development, and they pile into the next lift as it scoots towards them, hinges creaking. He is sandwiched between them - Atem to his left, with Yugi nestled on the opposite side. 

It's not comfortable, just vaguely tolerable. The metal support pole is steady behind the back of his helmet, and it's a miracle Yugi doesn't fall to his death as he places a steadying hand to Seto's shoulder, leaning across and laving a quick stripe down the chilled surface with his tongue, like a child with an ice pop.

Atem laughs, carefree and warm, and Seto cherishes the sound, tucking it beneath his ribs and letting it fill him up to the brim. He ends up caught in the middle, and it's a wonder they don't freeze, a permanent fixture to the lift for new waiting tourists.

They reach the summit without further incident just as the sun is swallowed by the jagged edges of the earth, meeting the others by the side of a large snowdrift where they've decided to rest their legs. Seto is glad of the break; today has already been more of a gift than he could ever deserve.

Flares are lit one by one, casting just enough light to see one another in the gloom of dusk. Seto is the last to receive one, passed to him by Atem, free hand cradling Yugi to his other side. It's a bright green that reminds him of early spring, just after the last clump of snow has melted, making way for tiny jade shoots to flourish.

Their eyes lock as the last rays of sunlight fade, a glittering wisp of breath all that separates them. A coil of hope settles in his gut, only to snap a moment later as Jounouchi hops down from the end of their snow drift, red-tipped flare sparking brightly and loudly petitioning for a race to the bottom. The moment is gone, and Seto swallows down the urge to spill the river of his thoughts into the open air.

"Last one to the bottom is buyin' the drinks!" 

The declaration is met with a series of groans and a rush to strap on their skis, each fastening flares to the end of their poles. Rolling his eyes and mumbling vague objections under his breath, Seto follows suit. He doesn't care at all about being the one to buy drinks, but he does care whether he loses the impromptu race. 

In hindsight, it's the same thing, but this Kaiba Seto is not in the habit of losing to anyone.

They take to the slope, one after the other in swift succession. Yugi leads the pack, swaying from side to side and kicking up splashes of snow in his eagerness to win. Seto is not far behind, outstripping Jounouchi with little effort, emerald and ruby pinpricks of light blazing like comet tails in the night. 

It's Mazaki who comes in last, sliding her way down the mountain at a sedate pace, trailing crimson fire and giving it her all. She wasn't one to give up easily, and that's at least one trait Seto can admire. He may not have won the race, but at least he beat Jounouchi and Honda, and that was a victory all its own.

It's too dark to continue, so they decide to end the night on a high note by stopping in at the local karaoke bar. Lights twinkle invitingly from above the door as Honda holds it open for them, a rush of warm air fanning the hair about their cheeks as they all rush in and away from the biting chill. 

Jounouchi winks, heading for the bar, an ominous sign if any.

"Oh _hell_ , here we go," Mazaki mutters, following after.

Mere minutes later, Seto is again wedged between Atem and Yugi, a board lined with shot glasses taking up the entire table in front of them.

"A'ight, we gotta drink it all at the same time, or else it'll spill."

"Ryou's gonna kill you when we get back." Yugi punctuates the threat with a forefinger that misses the tip of Seto's nose by a hair.

A soft flush finds its way to Jou's cheeks at the mention of his boyfriend, and Seto can't help the satisfactory grin that steals its way onto his face. 

"I'm not drinking that until I know what it is." Seto folds his arms in clear refusal, leaning back away from Yugi's offending finger.

"Smells like fireball whiskey," Honda dips a finger into the alcohol, licking off a solitary drop. "Tastes like it, too." His nose crinkles along with the corners of his eyes, and Seto knows no one is going back to their cabin sober tonight.

"Wonderful," he mutters, low enough that it's lost to the chatter around him.

"Aw, live a little!" Yugi's finger finds its way into his side, and despite the offending glare he receives in response, that doesn't wipe away the gleeful smile, or the mischievous gleam in his eyes that's bound to bite Seto in the back later.

" _Unbelievable._ "

Out of all people, he never thought Jounouchi would be the one to suggest drinking; but time passes and people change, and they all seem much happier than they used to be.

The original purpose of this trip was to make amends and enjoy himself for a change. As long as he was responsible about it, he could have a few drinks and still keep his head.

They simultaneously upend the shot glass board, and the cinnamon spice burns a fiery trail as it goes down. Seto isn't the only one to react - their entire table coughs and groans, but recovery is quick to find them. 

Funny how they should pick the only label with a dragon; it's like fate was handing him another gift, and though he was loathe to believe in such an abstract concept, he chalked it up to dumb luck and moved on.

"Now that _this_ idiot has had his fill," Honda grabs Jounouchi under the neck in a playful half nelson, ruffling the blond mop until he calls for a truce. "Let's chill out with something less hellish."

Jounouchi shoves him off and they all agree to order something much more tame.

For years and years, Seto only had his little brother to share good times with – yet at this moment, there’s Atem and Yugi, sound and constant as a living breath. He’s never felt so glad for what they are, here and now. Something like friends, borne from the ashes of lost time to rise again, like the legendary phoenix amid shroud-darkened flame.

A round of wine coolers later, and Seto can feel the beginnings of a pleasant buzz in the base of his skull and the tips of his fingers. Mazaki mentions there is more alcohol per serving in the "girly" types of drinks most women favor than what beer contains on its own. 

Yugi immediately sets down his half finished beer and heads to the bar for a daiquiri. Atem's lips curl softly around the gentle laughter that bubbles up from deep within. Seto raises a brow, finishing his own drink without comment.

Shortly after Yugi's return, the strawberry daiquiri is halfway gone, and so are his inhibitions. He struggles to slip behind Seto, who is forced to lean forward to accommodate him. He reaches Atem, who gladly helps his partner squeeze into the free space on his other side. Seto shakes his head, sliding the abandoned drink down the table to its owner, beads of condensation dripping onto his hand in the process.

It's still early, barely ten o'clock if the time on his phone is to be believed. Not even two hours have gone by, but the three drinks working their way through his system - one shot of whiskey, one beer, and one wine cooler - culminate in a pleasant fugue that warms the pit of his stomach and settles like a snowy blanket over his insecurities, muffling them in cotton and allowing his mind to wander.

A few minutes later, Mazaki suggests they sing at least one song before retiring, but the thought is immediately _too much_ ; Seto puts his foot down and refuses to participate, content to watch from the back of their booth. Not even Atem can change his mind, waving him over in the middle of the song for one last attempt. Yugi's eyes sparkle on stage, half drunk and inviting, but there is only so much he take in one night.

Seto stays long enough to catch the end of the song before gathering his things - donning coat, hat, scarf, and gloves in record time - paying for his share, and leaving the twinkling lights of the bar behind.

It's snowing again, winter's frigid fingers immediately clawing at exposed bits of skin. His breath litters the air, slipping from between clenched teeth; hunched shoulders provide meager shelter, and he doesn't get very far before a lump of snow litters the broad curve of his back.

Footsteps crunch through the snow, and of all people to follow him, Seto is vaguely surprised to find Yugi's bright eyes staring up at him with something akin to longing. It's begun to snow, flakes dusting their hats and shoulders in a fine white mist.

"You're not taking off already, are you?" Seto shrugs, a quick dip of his shoulders. "I have a better idea. Why don't we spend some time together? We haven't done that yet."

"You're just going to leave your friends?" The skepticism in his voice is evident, but Yugi is hardly coaxed from his goal.

"I already said goodbye, but Atem got roped into doing another song. We can wait for him if you want."

Without waiting for a reply, Yugi flops into the snow nearby and begins carving out a space for himself - a tiny, drunk angel among a sea of white.

"What are you doing." It's not really a question, but Seto feels compelled to hear the answer from Yugi's own mouth.

"Making snow angels, what else?"

Seto rolls his eyes, shivering in place and sparing two seconds of thought as to why he doesn't just _leave_.

"Why?"

This Kaiba Seto is not in the habit of asking questions, but his brain-to-mouth filter seems to be malfunctioning tonight.

Yugi halts his snow angel progress to squint through the snowfall up at his companion.

"Why not? C'mon, you can't tell me you've never made a snow angel before."

"I haven't, actually."

Yugi's lips form a perfect circle, jaw dropping. His mouth shuts with a click, blinking away the snow falling into his lashes as a smirk slowly etches a path across his face, cheeks blooming a soft petal pink in the cold.

"I bet I can make one better than you.~"

Something clicks, a crystal clear challenge in the coy tilt of Yugi's lips, sunshower fringe splayed in rays of gold to dust the snow, and it takes Seto no time at all to follow suit. He is clearly being baited, but Seto takes each challenge as it comes and treats them all to the same fervor and determination to win as if it were a duel for his life.

Yugi takes pity on him eventually, silvery laughter painting the air in whimsical tones as he watches Seto flail around in the snow like the tipsy dork he is. It doesn't take long for the anxiety to settle back in, jagged edges clawing at his resolve. Grumbling about a frozen backside, Seto gets to his feet, only to be dumped right back in the snow by a gentle push from Yugi.

Seto gets swift revenge, scooping a handful of powder from the ground and tossing it when Yugi's attention is diverted. It hits the back of his head with a satisfying crunch; it kickstarts a back-and-forth competition of sorts, one he would never have participated in while completely sober.

Yugi is in the middle of clinging to his back, arms securely around his neck as though they've always belonged there, when Atem finally exits the bar, perfectly sound on his feet. The drunk angel from his back vanishes, rushing over to tug his boyfriend into their snow fight.

"Having fun, are we?"

"Yeah! We made snow angels." Yugi points to the gaps in the snow line, one much larger than the other.

Atem's smile never wavers, an indulgent spread of lips as their eyes find each other in the drifting snowfall. His hair is still in its braid, gilded copper flung over his shoulder and slowly accumulating a fine white dusting of snow. Seto thinks of a proud lion, crunching through uneven drifts of white as Atem approaches, stopping just short of stepping on his toes.

"Here, your zipper." He motions to the heavy coat, and Seto has just enough time to register a pair of gloved hands, too small to be his own, pull the zipper down enough for his breath to swirl in crystalline eddies on the air. "There we go. Is that better?"

Seto nods, hands clenching the fringes of his scarf for lack of anything better to do.

"Can we go grab something to eat? I know it's late, but I've got _mad_ munchies."

Yugi's statement draws out a snort from both parties, and Seto agrees, if only to quell the rumbling in his own stomach.

A nearby street vendor hands them a steaming box less than twenty minutes later, and Seto has to gently smack Yugi's wandering hands away, lest he ruin the surprise. It was easy to distract them; a well-placed quip has Yugi scrambling to catch his breath, and Atem is not far behind. He borrows a marker from the vendor and scribbles a quick note on the underside of the lid for them to find later.

It's a spur of the moment decision, fueled by alcohol and tempered by determination. At this point, he has nothing more to lose.

Ten years is a long time to foster a crush on not one, but two of the best men Seto Kaiba has ever known. Coming to terms with it had been no easy task. Rejection was not in his vocabulary, so he did the only thing he could think of: bury it as deep as he could in the darkest corners of his heart and move on with his life.

He recognized a second chance when he saw it; dipped in starlight, submersed in snow, and edged in golden laughter.

They make their way up the mountain trail by foot, navigating the darkness with blind abandon and making small talk along the way.

"The only reason we're going to _your_ cabin and not _mine_ is because it's closer to the main lodge," Seto says, pizza box in one hand, with Yugi clinging tightly to his other arm like a baby squid.

"We also have to feed Bastet," Atem murmurs, warm and thoughtful against his other side.

"That, too. Can't forget about our baby girl!"

Seto snorts, a sharp gust of air, and the cabin comes within sight as if on cue. A light twinkles in the window, bright and inviting, a beacon of sunshine in the darkness.

Atem unlocks the door, ushering them in quickly to preserve what little heat there is. Seto drops the pizza box on a side table and sheds his coat, hat, and scarf, each finding their way onto the back of the couch. Steels himself to the core, willing the iron in his gut to keep him on track. It is no easy task to bare such intimate feelings, seeing as he'd spent the last decade crushing them underfoot. 

Atem takes the liberty of hanging their coats by the door, and Seto busies himself with the task of pulling each glove off, finger by finger. Takes deep, slow breaths as Yugi tips the lid of the box up and back, reaching to grab a slice of pizza and pausing with a slice of pepperoni halfway to his mouth.

"Atem." The summons is soft, yet insistent. Yugi slowly lifts snow-mussed curls and wild, eager eyes to meet his own.

"Yes darling, you can have first pick." Seto feels the bob of his throat, swallows back a shudder at the easy endearment. Waits until Atem turns to find them staring at each other, at the open box of pizza on the table, and on the short message written inside of the lid.

_I wrote a song for both of you._

It bears his initials, so it can hardly be a mistake. Seto feels embarrassment, hot and flush in his cheeks as he quickly swipes a slice of pizza from the box and shoves it in his mouth with a shrug. 

"You're serious? You wrote a _song_? For _us_?"

"Obviously, unless your ability to read has lessened over the last decade." It comes out sullen, devoid of familiar ire. He shoves a slice of cheese-covered pepperoni in his mouth just as Atem finds his voice again.

"That's wonderful. Thank you, Kaiba."

"Can we hear it?" Yugi's eager question, open and full of longing, halts all previously laid plans. 

"Let's eat first. I can't be the only one intent on stuffing my face."

Seto jumps on Atem's suggestion, shoving his gloves into a pants pocket to be forgotten. 

Disposable plates are passed around with glasses of water, squished beside each other on the small couch as they dig into their meager meal. Yugi's excitement is palpable, if his jiggling leg, stolen glances filled to the brim with fond amusement, and tipsy chatter are any indication. Atem is content to let his boyfriend take the lead, accepting Seto's silent offering of parmesan cheese topping with murmured thanks.

Yugi dubs their meal 'dark lunch' and goes to dump their empty plates while Seto and Atem take turns to wash the grease from their hands.

From the corner of his eye, Seto spies a small furry head, grey and sleek, peek above a woven basket. Atem summons it with a soft call, trilling against the roof of his mouth as he retakes his spot on the couch. The cat saunters over, tail crooked in happy feline fashion to jump on the blanket-shrouded lap, curled up and content.

"It's probably going to snow all night, so you might as well stay." 

Yugi's offer comes as a surprise to Seto, who had just resigned himself to playing the song, dealing with the pain of rejection for five minutes, and walking home alone in the frigid, blistering cold. 

He's in the next room, changing out of his heavy overalls and into something more comfortable. Atem is in the kitchen, the sleek grey Mau hot on his heels.

"Hey, babe?" Yugi calls, startling Seto from his last minute song configurations.

"In the kitchen!" Atem pokes head and shoulders around the edge of the doorway, a can of cat food in one hand, a can opener in the other.

"Can you hand me my sweater? I think it's hanging up on the peg by the door?"

Seto raises a brow, stamping down the pithy remarks his brain automatically feeds him. Atem shrugs, side stepping a now fervent Bastet, who seems to enjoy circling underfoot.

"My hands are full at the moment, I'm afraid."

Yugi groans, presenting an altogether _different_ type of mental image. Shakes those thoughts away into some foggy, cobweb-shrouded corner of his mind. Funny how he'd never given that any merit, only seeking pleasure from his own hands.

_Focus, you desperate fool._

"I'll get it," Seto mumbles; three strides later, and he's already there. A handful of coats and sweaters hang limply on sturdy wooden pegs by the front door. He picks the smallest one, a nice navy blue with the collar stretched out. Atem nods in confirmation, so it must be the right one. "Here," he mutters, three more strides taking him to what he assumes must be the bedroom doorway, holding out the sweater and keeping his eyes averted.

"That's the one! Thanks, dragon."

His old high school nickname had been buried for years along with the burgeoning feelings of youth, tamped down and built over with the passage of time. He nods, going back to the safe refuge the couch provides.

Safely decent, Yugi exits the bedroom a few minutes later, a bounce to his stride. Seto glances up from his phone, Mokuba's last text settling comfortably behind his eyes.

_You can do it, big bro. I believe in you!!_

No judgement had ever passed those lips, and Seto was so grateful each day for his little brother's wisdom concerning matters of the heart.

Atem exits the kitchen, taking the recently vacated bedroom for his own while Yugi drags a step stool over to the shelf in the opposite corner of the room.

"I _know_ it's around here somewhere," he mutters, gracelessly fumbling for something Seto can't quite make out. "Gotcha!" The exclamation is followed by the man himself, hopping down with a guitar cradled in his arms.

"I'm guessing you're not going to grace us with any hidden talent." 

Yugi snorts, jiggling the instrument in front of his face. "No, but _you_ are. I wanna hear that song." Seto pockets his phone, taking the offered guitar. Yugi bats his eyelashes, a quick flutter of gossamer hummingbird wings; it's far too late to back out now, and the grin that follows - full of white teeth and sunny mischief - is all the encouragement Seto needs. A pick is tossed into his lap, and he spends the next few minutes tuning it to the right specifications.

By unspoken agreement, they wait for Atem's return, Yugi clearing a section of the coffee table to sit on, idly wiggling his toes as Seto warms up his voice. He banishes any embarrassment peeking out, mouths hungry for scraps among dark and brooding crevices.

_Concentrate. This is it now._

When Atem and Yugi are settled, claiming the coffee table in front of Seto and waiting patiently, does he finally begin. No more lingering doubt, fingers picking at the fretboard without hesitation. Doesn't bother with any foolish preface, launching with shaky resolve into the first chords with every bit of courage he can muster.

The music is all in his mind, but it flows from the tips of his fingers, smooth and crystalline, shy and furtive as any boy's first crush. 

/Loving can hurt  
Loving can hurt sometimes  
But it's the only thing that I know  
When it gets hard, you know it can get hard sometimes  
It is the only thing that makes us feel alive/

Seto peeks up through his lashes, gauging their reactions. Yugi is squeezed comfortably next to his partner, fingers intertwined between their bodies; he says nothing when the other rests casually on the bend of his knee. He can see the mountain sky twinkling back at him from the depths of Yugi's eyes - dark, yet shining with thousands of stars.

Atem sits ramrod straight, fingernails digging into the worn table edge, the catch in his breath audible at this short distance. Seto can only hope, _pray_ that the man before him can measure what he sees by grace alone and not find him wanting. He continues into the next verse, leaving apprehension behind and embracing the emotion behind the song for what it is: an awkward declaration of love, messy and pure as the snow falling outside their window.

/We keep this love in a photograph  
We make these memories for ourselves  
Where our eyes are never closing  
Hearts are never broken  
Time's forever frozen still/

Seto launches into the chorus the way a river flows - steady, unshakeable, and coursing with unerring strength. For once, it seems like Yugi is frozen in time, enraptured by the gentle plucks of well-oiled strings, lips curling sweetly whenever their eyes meet. Tension slowly leaks out of Atem to pool around their feet, uncertainty replaced by unwavering resolve. Seto can see it all as he sings, pouring his heart into their capable hands with every word that leaves the safety of his lips. 

It's in Atem's steady presence, eyes alight with divine curiosity and warmth. It's in the spread of Yugi's lips, the inviting tilt of Atem's jaw, the curl of Seto's fingers around the pick as he hops from chord to chord, never missing a cue.

/So you can keep me inside the pocket of your ripped jeans  
Holding me closer till our eyes meet  
You won't ever be alone  
Wait for me to come home/

Seto swallows down the bout of longing, thick and wondrous on the tip of his tongue. There's more to the song, but they're already treading dangerous territory. Yugi's hand digs into the soft fabric beneath his fingers, scraping at the bone and carving intimacy where none should have the right to exist.

"That's um," he stalls, placing the guitar to one side and eyeing Atem with every nerve standing on end. "That's all there is. For now." His eyes flick down to Yugi's hand, who finally snaps out of his reverie to set its captive free. 

"That was amazing! I can't believe you _wrote_ that for _us_." Yugi pauses, eager tongue tripping over some sudden realization. "Hang on. Is that a _love_ song?"

He doesn't sound repulsed, and Seto is compelled to provide an answer, giving a slight nod and flicking the dark fringe from worried eyes that betray nothing. 

"I think that is indeed the intent." Atem spears him with a look filled with promise, hope etched in the lines of his smile. "Am I right, Kaiba?"

The wrong name keeps dripping from the right tongue, but Seto has come too far now to retreat, to give up the ground he's gained by this gesture alone.

"Yeah. It's for you, if-" he swallows, tilting his chin up to stare them down, consciously aware of his shaking hands and trembling heart "-if you want it."

It still holds him tight, something like friendship that’s cradled his heart in tender hands for years, that’s built itself into being more than _just friends_ for him now. A clear, sharp yearning that he’s vehemently kept pressed down, but still flares warm, intense, and _frightening_ , even now. _Maybe_ , Seto thinks, _it’s always been coming to this_. To recognizing all the things he wants, to creating space for something resembling happiness in his life: something that he doesn’t particularly understand yet, something that chance and opportunity and _fate_ never really permitted him before.

Atem and Yugi exchange mirrored looks, bemused and fond in the same space between breaths.

"Can we?" Yugi asks, eyes darting from Seto to his boyfriend, casually perched beside each other like two pieces of the same whole. Games, puzzles, the object doesn't matter. They were _made_ for each other, and Seto wonders if there is room for him in the spare corners of their easy affection, or if it's simply far too late.

Atem takes a deep breath, letting it out long and slow before relinquishing his partner's hand, only to brush a stray golden lock behind a pierced ear.

"I couldn't refuse such an open and heartfelt gesture." Seto's breath hitches on a quiet exhale, hardly daring to believe this might actually be _real_. "How long have you been sitting on this, Kaiba?"

The question was bound to come up sooner or later, better to get it out of the way early.

"I've loved you - both - for a long time now. Ten years, nearly as long as I've known you." The admission comes easier than he thought, leaving in a rush of wings, insistently beating to the rhythm of his pulse.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

Yugi's smile is gone now, wiped clean and replaced by unabashed concern - not pity. He's not the type. Yugi Mutou shares his affection freely, dusting love into every timeless bend and curve he finds, standing tall in the face of uncertainty where others have fallen prey.

"I was young and stupid, too much of a coward to even bother." The words are lacking, devoid of icy bite, but they ring no less true. "Check the inside pocket of my coat. There's something you need to see."

Yugi hops up, a whirlwind made flesh, dashing over to the back of the couch. It doesn't take him long to find, the crinkled and well-worn photograph Seto kept close for a decade smoothed over by careful hands. His eyes seem glued to its surface as he wanders back to them, gingerly retaking his seat on the table next to Atem, who leans over his shoulder to take a peek.

"I remember this," Yugi murmurs, reminiscent and fond. A finger traces over their cracked silhouettes, faded by time and etched with teenage affection. "You went to prom stag, and we couldn't have _that_."

"I'm still unsure as to how you managed to bribe the photographer." Atem shakes his head, gilded curls dancing, thoroughly bemused.

"All I had to do was bat my pretty eyes at her, and she was sold." In typical Yugi fashion, he's unashamed, smiling fit to burst, whole and real, and right within Seto's grasp.

"I may have also slipped her an extra ten grand," he admits with a shrug, tucking a stray lock of hair behind his ear.

"I knew it!" Yugi crows, exhalted and full of mirth.

Seto can feel the laughter bubbling up from the back of his throat, untamed and raw, half-fueled by a fading alcohol haze. It comes as a pleasant surprise to all of them, how he's able to cut loose and just be _himself_ again, blazing with charisma and vigor.

The photo exchanges hands, passing over to Atem, who cradles it close and leans forward, elbows resting on thighs.

"Is there more to that song?" He asks, sunset gaze flicking upwards. "I know you, Kaiba. You plan everything down to the last detail, and I, for one would _very_ much like to hear the whole thing."

"Seconded!" Yugi pipes up, eyes glimmering in the lamp light, bright and lovely as a star. 

He's right, of course. Seto Kaiba didn't get to be CEO of his own record company by sheer intimidation or inheritance alone; he had a talent for writing songs, though _love_ was not his chosen topic. He sighs, a slip of breath from between clenched teeth.

"Yeah, there's more." He reaches for the guitar, settling it once more between his thighs. Plucks a few strings to get his bearings, runs through the whole thing in his head before starting anew. "Just." he pauses, a sliver of teeth clamping down on his bottom lip before he decides to _hell_ with it all; what's one more memory? "Call me Seto."

"You really mean that?" Seto nods, fingers hesitating over the first chord. "Okay. _Seto_."

He can taste it from here, the way Yugi's tongue forms around the shape of his name. Solid, loving, entirely wholesome and kind. Atem sets the photo aside, carefully placed somewhere behind him; this time, it's _his_ hand that rests on the bend of Seto's knee, warm and open, a silent caress.

He doesn't mind in the least, and with lingering gazes, violet to blue and a mix in between, he launches back into the [song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=grOqZLTI5ks), right where he left off. 

Long, nimble fingers pick at each string, and Seto pours everything he has into every line and beat. The fret board vibrates under his expert touch, right down to the core of his ribs. The chorus calls for a higher timbre, approaching it with measured tone and grace. 

_It's missing something_ , he thinks, reaching the bridge with stilted vibrato and faltering cadence, powering through despite the fault. 

Yugi has a penchant for music as well, but his smile never wavers. He made it big as soon as they graduated, content to fade into background obscurity a mere three years later. Seto still has the two albums in his collection, set aside in their own place of honor. He was proud to have been a part of the process, and perhaps that was the reason they'd kept in contact all these years.

/Wait for me to come home  
You can fit me inside necklace you got when you were sixteen  
Next to your heartbeat where I should be  
Keep it deep within your soul/

Yugi places a hand to his sternum, an unconscious gesture Seto is still familiar with despite the growth of years. They both wear a pendant, inscribed with their lover's name. As the odd man out, it felt like a sharp stab to his heart every time Seto was forced to bear witness to their blind devotion. Now, it slides in deep beneath the skin, a wisp of heat coiling in his gut to settle along frayed nerves in loving arcs.

Stealing furtive glances as the last lyrics flow, low and trembling from the depths of his soul, Seto finds both sets of eyes locked to his, shimmering with fire and unshed tears. He sets the guitar aside again, clearing his throat; it's loud in the sudden silence, but it snaps them out of a love-lined daze.

Seto never imagined anyone could look at him like he'd set the sun in the sky, but there was a first time for everything. 

"Man, who knew you were such a sap?" 

Yugi takes a moment to wipe the corners of his eyes with the edge of a frayed sleeve, a watery smile twitching at his lips.

"As much as I wish you had said something before now," Atem says, voice catching. "I'm glad you were able to share your feelings with us, here and now."

The hand on his knee tightens, a fraction of a second filled with unspoken affection, before it slowly retracts.

"Me, too." Yugi is the first to leave his seat, claiming the space beside Seto, knees knocking together as he tries to get comfortable. "That was _beautiful_ , Seto. I loved it." A tiny hand reaches out, smoothing over calloused skin, shy fingers dancing over the pulse point, thrumming with hope and adoration in equal parts.

Atem nods in agreement, taking up residence on his other side, the hand that graced his knee coming back for more. Seto can't remember the last time he felt so lucky, or so loved.

"Well, now you know." Seto finds his voice lacking and clears his throat again, dislodging any leftover nerves.

"I honestly didn't know you were polyamorous." At Seto's nonplussed look, Yugi quickly explains. "Loving more than one person at a time, basically. It's _more_ than that by miles, but that's what it boils down to."

He'd never thought there might be a word for it, never able to pin one down to how he really felt. It seemed _right_ , now that he was able to give it some measure of thought. Admitting to loving them wasn't enough, though. Seto wanted the type of security love bought them; free and easy, warm and kind, and oh so _bright_ as to blind the heavens.

"That may be something we can look into," Atem offers, drawing Seto's attention away from self-destruction. "If that's what you want, of course."

 _Want_. All Seto Kaiba ever really wanted, in the deepest part of his scarred and abused soul, was to love and be loved in return. Perhaps Atem is aware of the magnitude of such a gift, hand leaving his knee to caress Seto's fingertips, pads worn and rough from years of playing and making music.

Both hands are now occupied, applying gentle pressure - skin to skin, and now heart to beating heart.

"Y'know, I have an idea I wanna try. You game?"

Yugi's rust-tipped curls come centimeters from kissing the plane of his jaw as he turns to look out the window, frost creeping steadily across the glassy surface. Seto flexes his fingers, rigid knuckles grazing each palm, spreading a hesitant affection in whisper thin stripes. He's not much for holding hands, never has been; then again, the thought of catching an earnest kid's dream in the palms of both hands and holding on tight is far too appealing to pass up.

"Depends on the idea."

He turns to Atem then, who shrugs, a quick dip in good-natured grace. Seto doesn't pull away when his hand ends up in both of Atem's; skating gently over the surface of calloused fingers, kissing the bend of each knuckle and watching with an amused grin the flush that blooms high and deep in the arches of his cheeks.

"Like _that_ , only my lips to yours."

Just like that, his attention is diverted, right back to Yugi's deep eyes, dark as the ocean depths and kissed by lamp light. Seto's throat bobs, swallowing thickly at the implications of kissing _anyone_ , not just his confirmed crush. One of them, at least.

 _One step at a time,_ he thinks, fingers curling around Atem's palm for security.

"It's quite alright. I daresay I don't mind."

Seto wonders how sad a boy he must have been, to have his first kiss stolen from a boy who may have loved him from the very beginning. Here Yugi is now, backlit by snow and graced by a golden halo, simple and beautiful as any masterpiece crafted by his own hands. He doesn't believe in fate or destiny, those are for people who have everything to lose and everything to gain.

Taking deep breaths, slowly in and out like a bellows to dwindling embers, he takes back the hand Yugi claimed for his own; the other he leaves in Atem's tender hold. For the moment, it's just him and a whirlwind of emotion, roiling and twisting beneath the skin, a hive of bees buzzing back and forth.

Yugi scoots closer, scraping tiny nails along the base of his skull, carding loving fingers through silky, snow damp brown; gathering a handful, he tugs, just enough to tip Seto's head back against the edge of the couch. He only has time to count the earrings decorating each ear - eight in total, four to each - before his world narrows to a feathery touch and cupid's bow.

Kissing Yugi is nothing like he remembers. Their lips are chapped and rough, winter's awful bite claiming even the best of them at times. It's like kindling a fading fire into a roaring inferno - tender at the edges, but fierce and wild, untamed and heady as the moments drag on. Seto's free hand finds its way to the taut curve of Yugi's hipbone, digging fine nails into the hem of his sweater and jolting forward on the edge of a groan. At this point, he's unsure which of them let out the noise, slipping between darting tongues and ardent nips of teeth.

Atem hums, low and deep at the back of his throat as the couch dips with his weight, shifting closer and abandoning his exploration of Seto's fingers for something far more promising.

It's a little _too much_ just then, and the spell breaks. Seto draws away to take deep, rattling breaths, sinking into the couch cushion and willing himself back down to earth.

Yugi chuckles, light and sweet, completely unphased by Seto's lack of grand technique but seeming pleased all the same.

"I could definitely do _that_ again," he says, finally giving Seto space to breathe. The hand splayed on the back of his neck and curled in the fine dark hair remains, a testament to their newly forged bond.

"Perhaps later, and only if he wishes to," Atem is quick to remind them both, drawing Seto's attention like a moth to an open flame. One of Atem's hands skim the length of his arm, pausing to trace little patterns at the crook of his elbow and the bend of his wrist. A scattering of tiny scars - visible only in dim lighting - dot the skin in raised tiers. Not the best conversation topic, one he would rather avoid if possible.

Seto tugs the hem of Yugi's sweater down around hips and clears his throat, the taste of parmesan and strawberries lingering on his tongue in heady wisps of delight.

"About that," he begins, stilted and awkward, forging ahead anyway when the feeble fingers of raw anxiety claw at his gut once more. "What am I to you now?" It nags at the back of his mind, insistent and hungry for an answer he can live with.

"Boyfriend, I guess." Yugi shrugs, confusion etched in the shape of his brow. His other hand finds the way to its twin, rough fingertips finding a home along the pale column of Seto's neck. "How about it, 'Tem?"

Atem's fingers finish worshiping every bit of bare skin they find, both sets folding on the slant of his shoulder, chin resting over top. It's a little overwhelming, to be surrounded so closely by so much selfless affection; the more Seto dwells on it, the longer he pines for it.

"If Seto is willing, we can certainly try."

He is far more than _just willing_ , has been for nigh on ten years. Accepting that, just this once, someone could like - perhaps even love - the hard creature known as Seto Kaiba is nothing short of miraculous. It is a gift he refuses to squander, one he will treasure for as long as they want him.

"Yeah, we can. We can try the" -it takes him a moment to form the shape of the word in his mouth, rolling it over his tongue in a bid to familiarize himself with its principles- " _polyamory_ thing."

The warm spread of Atem's lips is all the answer he needs, _hope_ and _finally_ carved into every sleek pore.

"That's the spirit!" Yugi quips, cotton-light and dusted in silvery tones. There's a quick press of velvet to his cheek, and it's all Seto can do to hold himself together.

A flash of grey jumps into his lap, purring and freckled in flecks of white.

"Oh, _darling_. Have you been sneaking out to play in the snow again?"

Atem's warm presence leaves his shoulder to scoop up the naughty cat that's trying to lick the snow from its whiskers.

Seto pushes a muted sliver of air out through his nose, one part relief to two parts humble. So much love was born in this room, it's hard to think he'll have to return to a normal, hectic lifestyle soon enough.

"Guess there won't be any walking back down the mountain, then." 

It comes as a surprise when Yugi snaps his fingers and hops up from the couch, nearly knocking his calf into the coffee table as he does.

"You can stay with us tonight. We'll be good, promise." Open skepticism must have shown on his face, because Yugi adds, almost as an afterthought: "We'll even let you have the bed."

"We _will_?"

Atem's arms are full of a softly purring Bastet, tiny furrow appearing between his brows as he sulks.

" _Yes_ , we _will_." Yugi manages to tug them both off the couch, though Seto blames his lack of coordination on their previous alcohol consumption. "Now come on, it's late, and baby is tired."

Seto's eyes roll skyward, but he plays along. He borrows a pair of sweatpants and a spare toothbrush - still in its bright packaging - from under the bathroom sink. Its's a little cramped, so they have to take turns, but at least he can find some comfort in Bastet's easy weight across his chest while he waits, on his back in the middle of their queen sized bed.

She approaches on silent paws, curiosity alight in her every blink. He smooths a hand down her back through silky grey fur, and a minute later, she's purring up a storm.

"Aw, she likes you!" Seto's vision is filled with black and gold as Yugi crawls over him to the other side of the bed, dropping a fleeting peck to his lips as he goes. "So do I, for that matter."

Atem is quick to follow after turning out the lights, and Bastet wriggles easily out of his grasp to crawl to the end of the bed in search of a warm place to sleep.

The alcohol has had a chance to mostly work its way through his system, but there must be some lingering courage coursing through his veins as his eyes flick over to Atem, who flops next to him, graceless and carefree.

"Goodnight, blue eyes."

The adoration in his tone is unmistakable, and Seto feels himself drowning in it already, sitting up on his elbows, sheets clenched tightly in nerve-wrought hands.

He doesn't even have to ask, eyes spelling out the urge all on their own, deep blue and glittering.

Atem - sunshine and passion in human form - cups his face in tender hands, leaning forward until their lips meet in the darkness of shifting fabric.

It’s languid and messy, wet and half-lazy; with Atem licking into the seam of Seto’s lips, with the skid and snag of Seto’s mouth on Atem’s, with the slippery glide of their tongues against each other’s in unison. A clear contradiction of mixing leisurely indulgence with a potent open flame, and Seto boldly coils his fingers over the slight hollow of Atem’s waist, pulling him down until their hip bones knock in collision. The gesture’s met with an eager answer of Atem nudging in further, the movement somewhat urgent, and then their hips are pressed firmly together, strong-set and flush.

It's too much and too little all at once, the clear gift of love dropped into undeserving hands; Seto's afraid he'll lose pieces of himself, trickling through cupped hands like water through a sieve. There's enough emotion in this bed to get him through the weekend and so much more.

A piercing whistle scatters his focus, and Yugi is unrepentant as he curls up seconds later, head tucked neatly beneath Seto's chin like it was always meant to. Atem chuckles, low and steady, and Seto knows there will be plenty more of _that_ in the days and weeks ahead.

He falls asleep with hope stirring in his chest and his face buried in Atem's neck.

***

In the morning, dawn's first rays kissing Seto's slumbering form, unbeknownst to either of his boyfriends, Atem wakes slowly, just as he would on any other day.

The phantom tingle on his lips is plenty, enough to fully rouse him from sleep. One hand finds its way into Seto's hair, parting dark strands from the noble face, so gentle and open, free from the ravages of stress.

 _He looks perfect_ , Atem thinks, just as Seto's eyes blink slowly open.

It's still fresh and beautiful, this new love he managed to find. Yugi is sound asleep against the curve of Seto's spine, and will be for quite some time.

He smiles, lazy and golden-bright.

Eyes half-lidded and dusted with sleep, Seto folds his arms around him, warm and seemingly content.

Atem swears he saw the smile that followed - painted in all the shades of love the blooming dawn had to offer.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm here to cleanse the tag, as usual. Let me know your thoughts, if any, and don't be afraid to point out typos or inaccuracies.
> 
> Notes:
> 
> \- I'm still working on improving my writing style, grabbing inspiration where I can. I like to write things indirectly, i.e. never outright stating something happening. He did this, she said that. I find it difficult to immerse myself in the writing. I love detail, so I include as much as I can get away with. I like knowing what characters are feeling/thinking when I read and write. It helps with combating my ADD.
> 
> \- I changed points of view at the end as a last nod to the video this is based around. I could write a whole fic on the Flare boys sleeping habits, but I'll spare ya'll that mess (for now). Atem is eternally sappy, and frankly, that's all anyone needs to know.
> 
> \- I state this in the fic itself, but Seto is head of a very popular record company, and he's the one who signed Yugi and Atem. Yugi was more for the alternative and pop genres, while Atem stuck to jazzy numbers. They retired early and opened an antique bookstore together in their hometown.
> 
> \- In reference to Seto saying he 'bribed the photographer ten grand', that would be in yen, and not USD. He inherited quite the sum of money when his stepfather died, too. (Good riddance.)
> 
> \- I can get away with using flare more than once this fic because there are actual flares.
> 
> And that's it for now! Look out for a Duel Squad chapter real soon. You can hit me up on twitter (@donutdarling) where I post all my fic updates right as I upload them here. I'm also on tumblr, [here!](http://doughnutdarling.tumblr.com/) Ask me about my ships if you like, I don't mind. I hope you all have a wonderful day. <3


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